


Proposal

by seiyuna



Series: A wedding and a funeral [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seiyuna/pseuds/seiyuna
Summary: Kurapika is hired to sabotage Neon's engagement to Kuroro.Things do not go as planned when he ends up replacing her as Kuroro's fiancé.





	Proposal

 

It is, as most things seem to be, Neon’s fault.

The clack of his heels is loud in the banquet hall, garnering the attention of the other guests. His dress sways with each step—a brilliant scarlet stark against the white and black attire of those around him. Kurapika searches the expanse of the hall, before finding the subject of his attention standing at the center with members of the distinguished Zoldyck family.

Neon shifts uncomfortably next to her father, letting him do the speaking and introductions on her behalf. She’s supposed to be like any other daughter from a powerful family, seated on the lap of luxury without a second thought for the world around her. But she also has a father willing to sell her off for the prospect of wealth—leading to an engagement to one of the sons of the Zoldyck family for the sake of strengthened business ties.

Kurapika might feel irritated at her questionable requests, but that doesn’t mean his heart can’t go out to her, especially when her fiancé is nearly a decade older than she is. He’s read about Kuroro before, an estranged son and successful businessman of his own right, even when he’s not entitled to the position of heir. With dark hair and dark eyes, he might as well be related to his brothers by blood, but Kurapika knows better.

Kuroro wears a small smile on his face, almost apologetic, when he approaches Neon. Kurapika’s too far away to hear what he says. He steps forward, but suddenly, his line of vision is blocked.

A woman stands before him, and the first thing he notices are the scars running parallel on her face. It’s rude to stare, but he’s never seen someone like her before and her black attire makes it seem like she’s attending a funeral rather than celebrating an engagement. A crown of black roses sits atop her head, but he’s learned not to question the sartorial tastes of the privileged.

She regards him for a brief moment, taking in his rigid posture, the cascade of his dress, the edge of lace that sweeps against his ankles. It’s borrowed from Neon’s wardrobe, much like the rest of his ensemble. When his chest was too lacking to fill the bodice, Neon had secured a ribbon over his upper waist. He can only hope that this woman doesn’t recognize that anything seems amiss.

“Pretty dress,” she says, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Thank you,” Kurapika says, unsure of her intention. She certainly doesn’t look like someone who would be a high-profile associate of the Nostrades, let alone the Zoldycks. He straightens his posture, exuding the dignity and refinement of an heiress. “If you’ll excuse me.”

When she lets Kurapika through, he moves past the guests staring at him, the throb in his ankles exacerbated by each step he takes. He stands several inches higher than he’s used to, and he’ll be happy to have these shoes off at the end of the day. There are so many different methods of ending an engagement, but Neon had to bribe him with this idea of hers. He’s worn disguises before, he’s been compensated handsomely for his work before, but nothing could compare to this.

If Neon didn’t cry to him that she’s in love with someone else, if she didn’t offer to cover the entirety of his tuition expenses, then Kurapika doesn’t think that he’d be here now. The supposed couple are standing away from their parents and closer to the refreshments, so he lifts up one of the wine glasses from the table and approaches them.

Kurapika considers drinking from it to ease the tension that's plaguing him tonight, but decides against it. He can do this without alcohol.

“Neon,” Kurapika says, raising his glass in acknowledgment.

“Oh, you made it!” Neon doesn’t hesitate to throw her arms around him, relief bleeding into her voice. “I was thinking that you weren’t going to show up. You look so _beautiful_.”

“You as well,” Kurapika returns politely. “Is this your fiancé?”

Neon lets go of him to motion to the man beside her. He’s dressed impeccably in a suit befitting of someone of his status, but there’s a cloth headband around his forehead. Kurapika doesn’t think that any of the wealthy know how to dress normally.

“This is Kuroro. Kuroro, this is—”

“I'm aware of who he is,” Kurapika interrupts, striding up to him with a contemptuous glare. “I know Kuroro quite well.”

Kuroro blinks, taken aback by his sudden shift in attitude. “I’m sorry?”

“You _should_ be sorry.” Kurapika doesn’t quite raise his voice, but his tone is enough to draw even more stares around them. There’s a familiar flash of white hair from the corner of his eye, and Kurapika thinks that he’s going to be ill. “You should be sorry that you’re getting married like this—as if _we_ never happened.”

“We?” Kuroro repeats incredulously.

“Yes,” Kurapika answers, the calm before the storm. He takes one glance at Neon, encouraging her to step away from them. “Are you going to pretend that you don’t know? Despite that you left me without saying a single word?”

There’s a bewildered expression on that handsome face of his. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. We've never even met before.” No one seems to believe him, because after all, Kurapika’s the center of attention here.

“You’re a horrible liar, Kuroro.” Heat storms Kurapika’s cheeks, whether out of misplaced spite or guilt, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how to cry on command like the way Neon does, but he forces a sob out of his throat. “You promised that you’d care of me. You promised that you’d care of _us_.”

Kurapika gingerly presses a hand to his stomach. “Was I not good enough for you? Is it because you didn’t want this child after all? You only wanted me for my body, right?”

Kuroro’s eyebrows arch at his endless accusations. “What—”

Around them, the whispers sweep across the hall like wildfire.

“So he's actually a playboy? What a shame.”

“Is that his ex-girlfriend?”

“Poor girl, she’s so beautiful too.”

“I don’t know who I feel bad for.”

“Her, of course.”

Kurapika pretends to sweep away tears with his hand, because it’s better to look pitiful than indignant. Neon’s being escorted away by her father, and although he had expected her to be delighted at his act, she looks astounded instead. On the other hand, Silva Zoldyck appears none too pleased and Killua’s already recognized him, sending a stare like _what the fuck are you doing_ towards his direction.

The scrutiny begins to make him feel self-conscious. Judging by the reactions of the other guests, he has them fooled. There’s a flush in his cheeks, a tremor in his hands, but he’s going to give a righteous conclusion to this entire thing.

“Looks like I was just a plaything for you, after all,” Kurapika says, his words flowing from water to ice. “Did you have other women while we were together? Were you _engaged_ while you were with me?”

“ _What_ ,” Kuroro echoes dumbly. He doesn't seem to be very articulate, but perhaps it is his surprise that is speaking for him.

“Do what you’d like. I have nothing to do with you anymore, isn’t that right?” Kurapika rubs at his eyes, effectively smudging his eyeliner and mascara. He should have used eyedrops to make this more convincing. “I’ll raise the child myself then. After all, I don’t want them to know that their father's a bastard who got engaged to my friend behind my back.”

Kurapika throws the wine on Kuroro’s face and shatters the glass on the floor. He glides away with the poise of a queen, not sparing a second glance at him, like he hadn't just spiralled Kuroro’s life downward.

 

 

 

Kurapika doesn’t think he can bring himself to speak to Neon ever again. He ignores her messages and phone calls, doesn’t even show up for work, but nearly gives in when an email notification arrives that a transaction has been made for the upcoming semester.

This probably means that their plan was successful, but at the cost of condemning an innocent man to a lifetime of scrutiny. The Zoldycks have enough power over the media to control what gets reported and what doesn’t, so when he browses the major news sites or even his social media, there hasn’t been any mention of the ordeal at all.  

Still, the guilt is heavy in his heart. Kurapika doesn’t know how the Zoldycks are handling the situation within their family, but Killua reaches out to him first. At this point, he probably thinks that Kurapika is insane.

“Save your apologies for Kuroro himself,” Killua says over the phone. When there hasn't been any contact from Kurapika, he's taken the initiative to schedule a meeting to rectify the situation. “He’s waiting for you right now at the coffee shop. Let me know how it goes.”

“Alright,” Kurapika concedes. He doesn’t have a choice, and he most certainly can’t spend the rest of his life in hiding. “I’m sorry again.”

“I mean, I thought it was hilarious and all. But Mom and Dad are seriously pissed, to the point they’re going to disown him once and for all.”

“Oh.” There’s that uneasy sensation again, and Kurapika feels an impending headache coming along. “I’ll do my best to talk to him. I’m almost there, so I’ll talk to you later.”

The coffee shop sits on the edge of campus, one that Kurapika finds himself frequenting quite often. It’s more quiet when the students are away for spring vacation, so that means that there’s less of a chance of someone recognizing him. As expected, there aren't too many people at this hour and most of the tables are empty. He quickly spots Kuroro sitting all the way in the back by himself, plainly dressed in casual clothing but still wearing that headband of his. With an open book on the table and a purchased drink, he looks as if he’s been waiting for Kurapika for a while.

Kurapika approaches him quietly. “Hi.”

Kuroro looks up, but doesn’t respond until Kurapika clears his throat. “Did you cut your hair?”

He wonders if that's the only thing that Kuroro has noticed about him. “I was wearing a wig. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m a guy.”

“Oh,” Kuroro says slowly. The revelation doesn’t seem to perturb him as much as their interactions during the other day, but he stares at him for a moment too long. His reaction is starting to unnerve Kurapika. “I don’t really mind, I suppose. Please have a seat.”

Kurapika assumes the seat in front of Kuroro, wanting to be anywhere but here. “So.”

“So.” Kuroro looks rather calm, without any trace of resentment on his face. “Thank you for speaking to Killua. I wanted to meet you because I was curious to know what compelled you to—do what you did. Would you mind telling me?”

Kurapika would never admit it to his face, but his first impression of Kuroro was actually pleasant. He was more polite than expected and didn’t exude a dangerous aura like most of the Zoldyck family members. If it wasn’t an arranged marriage, especially when the bride was so young, then most people would think that they would be fortunate to have a gentleman like him as a husband.

“Neon doesn’t want to marry you.”

Kuroro shrugs. “I don’t want to marry her either. But I still want to know the purpose behind your actions.”

Kurapika doesn’t quite understand why someone his age doesn’t have the capacity to object to the arrangement. Apparently, when Illumi ran off with some circus performer and refused to return, he was denounced for such a disgraceful lifestyle. That left Kuroro as the eldest son, but someone with his seniority would surely have some say in the situation. If he was already estranged from the family, why did he even need to return? Was it a matter of inheritance?

“Why I destroyed your reputation? Or why I decided to a fabricate a story on such a grand scale?”

“Why you went to such great lengths for the Nostrade heiress.”

Kurapika decides not to make any mention of finances. He divulges everything but that.

“Neon’s been my employer for a while now, so I’m accustomed to her requests, no matter how strange or demanding they may be. I’ve done everything from being contracted as a bodyguard to pursuing some—objects of interest that she may desire.” Kurapika chooses his words as carefully as he possibly can. “I might even consider her to be a friend. She doesn’t really have friends, so I might have been looking out for her too.” It's not too far from the truth. “But it doesn’t matter what her family’s intentions are—marrying her off against her will, especially at her age, is reprehensible.”

Kuroro thoughtfully agrees. It's not the reaction he would expect from someone who's been scorned before his entire family. He might even be curious, if Kurapika has to describe the look in those dark eyes.

“You don’t seem particularly angry about this,” Kurapika adds.

“I’m not,” Kuroro says, honest. “I don’t even want an apology from you, but Silva and Kikyo are rather upset at me. They urged me to take responsibility for my actions.”

Kurapika lets out a huff. “How are you going to do that?”

Kuroro slowly reaches into the pocket of his jacket, procuring a small box. This doesn’t look anything like the retribution that Kurapika had been expecting. “I would like to make this right.”

 _Oh, fuck no_ , Kurapika nearly says aloud. If this is going where he thinks it is—

“Kurapika,” Kuroro says, and there's a tender smile on his face. He holds the box out to him, opening the cover, revealing a simple band of white gold, thin and delicate, with a ruby gemstone gleaming in the center. “Will you marry me?”

This is absolutely ridiculous. It’s his turn to be dumbfounded, because he doesn’t think that something like this could possibly make things right. Across from them, the employees at the counter and patrons sitting at the tables have the widest grins on their faces, impressed by the unexpected proposal.

The coffee shop blooms in applause and congratulations before Kurapika can even respond.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't take this too seriously. This is pretty much a borderline crack fic and a product of my ramblings on Twitter.
> 
> Kuroro is an adopted son of the Zoldyck family, and I can explore his relationship with them later on. I haven't actually seen anyone write Morena yet, since she's a pretty new character in the manga, so here we are.
> 
> Please leave a comment. You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/seiyunablog) or [Tumblr](http://seiyuna.tumblr.com/).


End file.
